The Coup de' Araluen
by AlexR34
Summary: Araluen is going through a revolution. King Duncan has been forcibly overthrown and replaced by a corrupt and unjust ruler. The Ranger Corps have gone into hiding, and they have started a resistance. They lack a push factor, though, and a Toscan exile, Marcello de' Firenze, is just that. (Rated T for violence)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello signors and signoras! This is an RA fanfic that I'm writing, and this my first fanfic so please don't be too harsh. It takes place around book 10-11ish, but it does not follow the storyline of those books. Please read, review, and enjoy!**

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Prologue

_5 years prior _

I saw a glint of steel somewhere along the rooftops. I scanned my head around, and I saw it again. The head of the Senate was giving a speech, and I caught wind of a conspiracy arising against him. I could make out a figure concealing himself on top of one of the rooftops. I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd, trying to get out of the mass. I broke through and I dashed away to where the figure was. I climbed up the house with the years of practice I had, and eventually I made it to the top of a roof right above him. I looked down, and then I saw the full picture of the man.

He had a purple hat and cloak, and was wearing dark, skintight leather. He had a crossbow in his hands, and he was pointing it straight at the Senator's heart. He was a Genovesan Assassin, hired by the conspirators. It was time to take matters into my own hands.

I stealthily unsheathed the dagger that I kept on my belt, holding it at waist level. I was on a full adrenaline high, heart pumping on overdrive. I crouched down, like a leopard about to pounce on his pray. And that was precisely what I did. I leaped down, and landed just behind the man. He pulled the trigger of his crossbow in suprise, losing his aim. The heavy, poisoned steel bolt went ricocheting into who knows where. Before he could wheel around, I already had my dagger plunged into his back. His knees gave way, and he crumpled to the ground.

I cleaned and sheathed my dagger. I picked up the man's crossbow. It was beautifully crafted, made from near-flawless wood. This thing must be worth a fortune, I thought to myself.

I heard the thud of metal boots coming up the stairs. I spun on my heel, crossbow still in hand. Six men emerged from the stairwell. They had metal chest plates, greaves, and helmets. Each one had a halberd in their hand and a rapier and a dagger strapped to their belt. Members of the Guard, I though to myself. This wasn't going to end well.

I dropped the crossbow, and threw my hands up. "It's not what it looks like, officer, I swear, this man was about to shoot the head Senator, so I-"

One man stepped in front of the others. He was obviously the head Guard, based on his superior armor and weapons.

"Signor," he started, "You are under arrest for murder and treason. Come with us."

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_5 years later _

I walked up the gangplank onto the Silver Hawk, the Gallican passenger ship that was taking me to Araluen. Hopefully things will go better there than in Gallica, or Aslava, or just about any other place I have been in the last 5 years.

A man lifted up the gangplank, and the sailors unfurled the sail. A gust came, and blew us north towards the island nation of Araluen. It wasn't long until the southern coast came into view.

The sailors furled up the sail, and we slowly skidded into the port. The gangplank was lowered, and the passengers filed off. I slinked down the street, not wanting to draw attention to myself. My eyes scanned the rows of buildings that lined the streets. I looked at a map of Araluen earlier today, and I tried to remember which city I was in. Selsey, that was it, I pinpointed. Not that it mattered very much, for I was only going to stay here 2 days at most.

I eventually spotted a good-looking inn, so I walked inside. It was fairly low-ceilinged, and I had to duck to get through the doorway. It wasn't smoky, though, like most inns were. I walked to the counter, and was greeted by a man in a dirty apron.

"Hello, my name's Walter." He offered his hand, and I shook it. "What can I do for you, good sir?" The man asked.

"My name's Sam, good to meet you." I replied, using my alias and hiding my Toscan accent. "Can I get a room for one night?"

"Sure thing. Just one?"

"Yes, thanks." I confirmed. The man, Walter, lead me upstairs and to my room. I opened the door, and let go of my pack, slumping on top of the bed. I decided to go down to the taproom. I bought a light snack, and sat down at one of the tables. I started eating, but then I heard something. My ears, finely tuned from years of being on the run, picked up a strand of conversation that interested me. The strangers were talking in hushed voices, and I strained to hear.

"...Treaty will be at the meeting tonight. It'll be at Bridgeford. I think that they're organizing something big. It's about time something got this resistance moving."

By this point my mind was racing. Treaty, Treaty, I knew the last name from somewhere, just had to connect it to a first name. Treaty, what was it, Will! Yes, Will, that was it, Will Treaty, the famous ranger! Everyone in the world knew him. He slayed a Kalkara, stopped Morgorath's invasion of Araluen, escaped from slavery in Skandia, stopped a Temujai invasion, the list goes on and on.

But why was there a resistance? I thought. Then I remembered hearing something about a revolution, a switch in rulers that was apparently not well received. I'd been on the business end of the law one too many times, so I was going to stay out of this.

I hastily paid, and left the inn. I milled around the streets for a little bit, and then I decided that here wasn't the right place for me to stay. People talking of resistance, and for a corrupt leader, anyone even in the vicinity of those folks mean trouble. I had a decent amount of coins in my pocket, so I decided to rent a horse. I found a stable, and when I tried to rent a horse, the stable boy was being strangely interrogative.

"What is your purpose for renting this mount?" He asked with condescending authority.

"To travel, get from point A to point B, how much of a reason do I need?"

"Where would this 'point A' and 'Point B' be?" He asked arrogantly.

By then I just thought that it wasn't worth the fight, so I decided to walk away. But when I reached the gates, I was met with more questions.

"Who are you, where are you going, and what is your reason for going there?" One. The guards asked, his voice booming.

I simply walked away at that point. I needed to think, so I went to my room in the inn. I sat down on the bed, and made a decision that would change my life forever. Maybe these folks in the taproom were right, I thought to myself. I suddenly felt a strange feeling of loyalty and compassion for this island nation that has absolutely nothing to do with me. This country does need to change. These citizens are being grossly oppressed, and for what reason? What is to gain? I picked up my pack, went downstairs, told Walter that I wasn't going to be staying the night (obviously met with a confused look), and stormed out of the inn. I was going to this Bridgeford place, no matter what these stuck-up, brainwashed guards say.

I walked to the edge of the city, and I looked at the wall surrounding it. It was only three metres high, made of logs. I could climb this in my sleep. The wood was rough, which provided many good hand- and foot-holds. I was up and over the wall in a matter of seconds. I pulled out a map of Araluen that I had brought with me, and i studied it. Soon a found a small town labeled 'Bridgeford'. It was a few kilometres north of here, probably a full day's walk away. Then I remembered that the meeting was at evening, and it was midday. There was no time to walk, so I took off at a full sprint.

I was unknowingly leaping over logs and stumps, my subconscious taking control of my body. I soon had exhausted myself, and I slumped to the ground. That was a bad idea, I thought to myself, taking off sprinting like that. I pulled out my map, and looked at where I was. Then I realized that I was wasn't that far from where Bridgeford was. I was fairly rested, but I was still breathing heavily. I waited awhile, and then left again. This time I took off at a steady walk, cautious of my pace.

After another hour or so of walking, I finally reached Bridgeford. I knew that I was going to be challenged at the gate, so I climbed over the wall as before. Soon I was mingling with the town folk, trying to keep a low profile. My ears were on alert, trying to pick up any talk of the resistance. Soon I heard two people talking in hushed voices on a fairly concealed verandah. I snuck around and got into a good position to hear them.

"...going to be at McKinley's house. It's the third one on the right. There's a passcode though, and it's 'watchdogs'. Remember that, 'watchdogs'. Now, though, ..." The man's voice trailed off as he heard footsteps approaching. All three of us ran in opposite directions. I had heard what I needed to hear, the location of the meeting, so now all that was left to do was wait until sundown.

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**How did you guys like it? Please review and tell me if I should continue writing this. More to come if requested! _Avere una buona giornata!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello signors and signoras, sorry for the long update and the short chapter. Thanks a ton to whoever reviewed last time, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter just as much!**

**Moniquebowman: it's a movement that is trying to get rid of the new government and put Duncan back into power. Think of the Norwegian Resistance, kind of like that. The Ranger Corps started it after they got disbanded. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN RA**

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It was a very tense few hours waiting until the meeting. I tried to calm myself as so to look unsuspicious, but every muscle in my body was tense. Finally, after many an impatient hour, the bell tolled that signified the end of the day. I walked causally to this McKinley character's house, using every ounce of my willpower not to immediately bolt down the street. I got to the house, but then another problem arose.

The people who run this resistance, the Ranger Corps, definitely don't give out their location and password to anyone, so wouldn't they be suspicious if a stranger just walked in and knew them? I would have to find a way to ease myself in, I thought to myself. How was I going to do that?

I thought for a while, coming up with ideas but then striking them down once I discovered a flaw.

After quite a while of thinking, I thought of one that I lingered on for a while. Maybe I could just play it dumb, pretend that I was a local, and that I heard something about a resistance movement, and I wanted to join. There was one thing I was concerned about, though, if I was going to pretend to be a person who didn't know anything about the resistance, then how would I know that the meeting would be at McKinley's house? I certainly wouldn't just 'know' it was there.

I checked the position of the sun, and it was nearly evening. The meeting would start anytime now! Deciding to follow my half-thought-through plan, I walked to McKinley's house.

I knocked on the door, trying to sound secretive. A man appeared in the doorway. He was shorter than average, and neatly shaved. He had untidy brown hair, and deep, calculating yet youthful brown eyes. He looked at me, and asked, "Can I help you?"

I wasn't going to make the mistake that most would make in the situation. Most people would start out speaking, and then stutter constantly with lots of 'um's an 'uh's. I was experienced in this situation, so I didn't make those common mistakes.

"Hello, sir," I started, speaking in a hushed voice. "I'm really upset with the way this new, king," I spat out the word, "Is ruling things, and I heard that there was a resistance movement here, and-"

But the next thing I knew, I was being dragged inside and the man shut the door quickly yet quietly behind him.

"Where did you hear of the Resistance?" He demanded.

"I have a friend who told me about it. He is also displeased with the current situation. He said that if I truly wanted to bring down this new king, that I should come here. I'm Walter, by the way." I offered the man my hand, but he didn't take it. He instead led me a little farther into the house.

"Listen, I can see though lies like a glass window, and we both know that your end of the conversation has been purely fictional." He looked at me, his eyes calm but with obvious anger behind them. And if the stories I've heard are true, Rangers are not someone you want to get angry at you. "Let's start with something simple. What is your real name?"

Marcello," I replied, letting my Toscan accent flow freely. "Marcello de' Firenze."

"Good. I can tell you're telling the truth. Now, where did you actually here of the Resistance?"

"I heard people talking about it in an inn in Selsey. At first, it sounded like dangerous stuff, so I was going to stay out of this. But then I've felt some of the oppression that this new king has been dishing out, and then I realized how much this country needs to change."

"What should make me think that you're not a spy working for the King?"

"Well, maybe that I just got here and I don't even know the King's name yet?"

"Wait here." The man left. He came back shortly afterwards. "The leaders of the Resistance have said that you seem trustworthy enough. Follow me."

The man lead me through a series of hallways. We walked into a room, which was alot bigger than I had had expected. There was a fair amount of people in there, the majority of them wearing mottled green-grey cloaks and silver oak leaves around their necks. The was also a few commoners among them.

"Hello, everyone." The man addressed the crowd. "Here is our newest member to the Resistance, Marcello de' Firenze."

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** How did you like it? Please review, and _tornare per più e godere!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello signors and signoras! Sorry for the long update, so here's an extra long chapter with plenty of action and such! Thanks a ton to whoever reviewed last time, and I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! Also: when I say that Marcello has an axe, it's not like a burly giant 8 kilo Skandian axe, it's more like a light one-handed tomahawk-type axe.**

**DISCLAMER: I DO NOT OWN RA**

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There was a short applause, and then the man held up a hand for silence. The crowd stopped. I went and sat down at one of the many tables that were in the room. At the same time, the man stepped up on to a wooden crate, obviously meant to be a makeshift podium.

"Attention, attention, Rangers and other folk alike," He started. "As you may have heard, we are planning a large protest in the main square of Forloth, the major city in Araluen fief. Bring your weapons, but keep them concealed. We cannot all move at once, so we will have to stagger our leaving times and take different routes. I trust that you know how to get there. If not, there are maps in the back. Everyone needs to be there by the second hour after noon. Anyone who wants to get involved in the details, stay behind, everyone else is dismissed. Follow the normal exit pattern."

After he was done talking, I headed to the back of the room and meekly grabbed a map. I leaned against a wall and studied it. Forloth was about 15 kilometers north of here. It was almost midnight, and walking there would take almost a day. Suddenly someone nudged me none too lightly.

"Your turn to leave," He said gruffly.

I walked out of the house stealthily. I roamed the streets for a while, trying to think of how to get to Forloth. I tried to pick up a few strands of conversation, and then suddenly I couldn't believe my luck. I found a group of merchants talking to each other.

"...lots of gold there. Also, I heard that there was a large supply train leaving for Forloth in a while, that might be something to look at."

That was all I needed to hear, so I walked away. I walked towards the main gate, because I knew that that would be the way that the said supply train would be leaving from. I found a large bush, and hid behind it, huddled in my cloak with my hood up.

It took a while, but eventually the supply train left. I snuck around, utilizing my years of stealth skills. I nimbly jumped on to one of the wagons, hiding in one of the many nooks and crannies. I was determined not to make a sound, this being a rather dangerous hitchhike due to the high security.

It was a long wait, and my muscles were cramping. I tried to focus on a certain point in the distance to take my mind away from the uncomfortableness. It worked for a little while, but then the pain came back. I sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long ride.

After many tense hours, we finally made it to Forloth. I hopped off a quarter of a kilometer away, walking the rest of the way there, and once again climbing over the wall.

I fingered the hilt of my dagger and the head of my axe on my belt, making sure that they were still there, should the need for combat arise.

Once I was, albeit illegally, inside the town, I went to the nearest public building and checked the water clock to make sure that I wasn't late. But then my fears were confirmed; I was. The clock said that it was half past two. The protest started thirty minutes ago!

I raced to the village square, bumping aside confused-looking pedestrians. I made it there, and then I joined with the crowd. The man who was leading the protest, the same man who was leading the meeting the other night, was standing upon a large wooden crate, fist in the air. They were chanting something that sounded like a garbled version of 'Duncan'.

The first push factor. There was a loud _thwang_, and a red-feathered arrow streaked through the sky, heading straight for the leader of the protest. The man, having excellent reflexes, jumped out of the way. The arrow, missing it's intended target, hit a person in the crowd. There was a collective gasp, and everyone around the person started helping him out while everyone else (me included) drew their weapons. Soldiers rushed out and started breaking up the protest.

The second push factor. A man at the edge of the crowd struck one of the soldiers. In a matter of seconds the situation turned into an all-out pitched battle. The sound of steel on steel filled the afternoon air.

A man, lightly armored and armed with a sword approached and slashed at me. I deflected with my dagger, and another man in a mottled grey-green cloak came up and finished him off with a type of weapon that looked somewhere in between a large knife and a short sword.

I quickly reversed my dagger into an icepick grip. There was another man a ways away, and he was moving towards me. He thrusted, and I parried while simultaneously wrapping my wrist around his sword arm, effectively immobilizing it. I slashed with my axe around his lightly armored upper torso, and he fell to the ground.

I saw a break in the crowd and I ran for it, but then another man stepped in my way, slicing a large horizontal arc with his sword. I ducked under it, and doing a quick pirouette to gain momentum, I plunged the spike of my axe into his side.

Not bothering to check the results of my handiwork, I spun around him and made for the gap. I heard a yelp, and instinctively spun around. I saw the lead man, the one who was leading the protest, being surrounded by three or four men. I could tell that he was an experienced fighter, but nonetheless it was still a losing battle for him.

Not really thinking, I raised up my axe arm and hurled my axe tomahawk-style. It gracefully flew through the air before embedding itself in one of the soldier's backs, who then fell to the ground.

Then I realized the flaw in my plan. I just threw away my main weapon! I sprinted towards the dead soldier, but another man stepped in my way. I couldn't stop myself in time, so I put my shoulder forward and body slammed into him. He went sprawling onto the ground.

I reached the man who fell from my axe, and I stooped to pick it up. However, I was going so fast that I stumbled, taking another enemy down with me. I slashed about randomly, and the other soldier that fell went down.

Now there was only two men left, and the other man finished them off quickly. I looked around, and it seemed that the battle was settling down, the protesters quickly gaining the upper hand.

I looked at the man and he looked at me.

"Run?" He asked.

"Run." I replied, nodding. We both bolted for the gate and nimbly hopped over. Once we were both a safe distance away from Forloth, we stopped.

"Thanks for saving me back there." He said.

"Anytime." I replied, smiling.

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**Sorry, maybe it wasn't that long. But how did you like it? Please review! My updates should be more frequent now, because I'm typing this on a tablet and I just got a keyboard for it so I can type faster.****_ Così a lungo!_**


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